


I'll Be Here (Waiting for You)

by TheDarkSideofEnergon



Series: After the War [1]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Events, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically ignores RiD, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Meeting Again, Waiting, also Arcee swears a lot, and Drift for that matter, because let's ignore RiD, especially their version of Drift, except for Bumblebee and Jazz coming to Earth, lots of waiting, so does Ratchet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 11:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18716206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkSideofEnergon/pseuds/TheDarkSideofEnergon
Summary: "It had been three millennia since he had last seen him. A drop in a Cybertronian’s life, but a long eternity to the spark, when it was the one mech out there that you loved, somewhere. Ratchet knew he was alive. He had to be."Ratchet's sent out a signal of his own. Now, all he can do is hope that Drift is out there, looking for him.Post TFP/Predacons Rising, ignores RiD.





	I'll Be Here (Waiting for You)

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. More or less an unedited flash-fiction. Enjoy.

“Ep ep ep ep. I know where I am needed.”

 

Ratchet knew that he was old. While he would still live for millions of years, especially with the end of the war, Cybertron had no need for a rust bucket like him.

 

Or, at least, that’s what he told Optimus.

 

“Are you certain, old friend?”

 

“Optimus, even if I wasn’t, Cybertron is only a space bridge away now. You can call me if there’s a medical emergency. In the meantime, I will enjoy the peace and quiet.”

 

Optimus sighed. “If that is your wish.” He held out his hand to Ratchet, who took it solemnly. “Until we meet again, old friend.”

 

He had left then, and the adults had herded the children out, fresh tears having begun to spill from Miko and even Raf and Jack looking a little less than emotionally controlled. Ratchet was left alone in hangar E.

 

He was needed here. That’s what he had told them. Why, he had not elaborated on. Taking a look over his shoulder, he pulled up a program on his computer screen and stared at the small, blinking light in the corner, with a static line by it, indicating that the signal was still transmitting, but had not been received. It would only lead here to Earth when it was, and if Ratchet wasn’t here to answer it...

 

Shoulders slumping forwards, Ratchet sighed heavily and closed his optics. It had been three millennia since he had last seen him. A drop in a Cybertronian’s life, but a long eternity to the spark, when it was the one mech out there that you loved, somewhere. Ratchet knew he was alive. He had to be.

 

xXxXxXx

 

Days passed. Days turned into weeks. Optimus had returned the Allspark to the Well, at the cost of his own life. Ratchet had felt the soft pull at his own spark that told him his old friend was truly gone, one with the Allspark. So he went back to Earth again. He moved bases. He couldn’t be where Optimus had been. He kept the signal running. Only he would be able to pick it up. Ratchet had made sure of that. Nobody else on the team had ever known that Ratchet was looking. Most of them didn’t know that Ratchet even had someone out there.

 

Optimus had known. Optimus had always known.

 

xXxXxXx

 

Weeks turned into months. Months turned into years. Bumblebee came back, two young Cybertronians in tow. Jazz even came to visit him once. It had been good to see him again, so many millenia later. Apparently, Prowl was carrying. Ratchet agreed to come back and do the extraction when it was time. It was the least he could do for them. Before Jazz left, Ratchet stopped him.

 

“Jazz… on your way here, did you run into anyone else? A bit shorter than me, slimmer, carries a greatsword?”

 

Jazz thought for a moment. “Can’t say that I did, m’mech. Friend of yours?”

 

Ratchet closed his optics. “You could say that.”

 

Jazz hummed. “You sure he’s still alive?”

 

Ratchet stared Jazz down, a faint growl in his engine. “I know he is.”

 

Jazz stepped back, hands up. “Just a question, m’mech. Lots of good mechs were lost during the war. But if you say he’s alive, then I believe you. I’ll keep an optic out on my way back to Cybertron. What’s his name?”

 

Ratchet hesitated.

 

“Drift.”

 

xXxXxXx

 

A few more years passed. Ratchet still saw the children on a regular basis. They were hardly children now, however. Even Rafael was of the human age of majority now. Jack was dating one of his old classmates. Miko was long since back in Japan, now starting her own clothing line. Rafael was working on his doctorate in robotics. What else would he have done? Ratchet pretended to not care. But he sent Rafael the basics on some Cybertronian technology.

 

Maybe he’d finally get a decent computer out of it.

 

Still Ratchet waited, that little blinky light taunting him day in and day out, and yet he refused to turn it off. That light and line was his connection to Drift, and he wasn’t giving up.

 

Jack had gotten married, and they were expecting their first child. Miko was climbing the ladder of fame. Rafael was working on a second doctorate in programming. Ratchet had made one trip back to Cybertron to deliver Jazz and Prowl’s first sparkling. It was a healthy, screaming femme and Ratchet had smirked and wished them the best of luck. He’d even paid a few other visits while he was there. Including one to Knock Out.

 

“Well now, if it isn’t the Doctor of Doom.” Knock Out drawled as Ratchet walked into the body shop that Knock Out had opened as soon as he could, his justification being that with the war over, mechs would want to get back to looking fabulous and not like war machines. He had been right.

 

“Glitch.” Ratchet snapped right back, before huffing. Knock Out simply grinned.

 

“What brings you into my shop today? Looking to drop that bulky frame to something a little more… flattering?”

 

Ratchet snorted. “Hardly. I simply thought I would stop by. See how you were fairing.”

 

Knock Out looked around and shrugged. “Your concern is certainly touching, but I’m fine. This line of work has a good deal less paint damage, and without my assistant…” Knock Out trailed off.

 

Ratchet looked at him. “I never asked what you two were.”

 

Knock Out shrugged again. “Not many thought to. Megatron knew. So long as we kept it to the berthroom, he didn’t care.”

 

“So you were…”

 

“Conjunx.” Knock Out turned away. “Thanks for the visit, but if you don’t need work done, get out.”

 

Ratchet turned to go, then paused.

 

“Knock Out?” No response. “I am sorry for your loss.”

 

“You’d be the first.”

 

Ratchet left. He’d meant to ask if Drift had ever come in, but Knock Out wasn’t likely to tell him now anyways. He’d ask Prowl, but he’d just had the sparkling. Bumblebee wouldn’t know. Wheeljack and Bulkhead were working on rebuilding other cities. Ultra Magnus was rebuilding the judicial system. Smokescreen was… somewhere. Arcee, though… Ratchet struggled to recall what she was doing now, and finally resorted to comming her.

 

“Ratchet? What the frag are you doing on Cybertron?”

 

“Good morning to you as well, Arcee.” Ratchet snorted. “I was delivering Prowl and Jazz’s sparkling, if you must know. And now I’m looking for someone. I was wondering if you could help.”

 

“Being law enforcement has its perks.” Ah, that’s right. She’d joined the Enforcers along with Bumblebee. “Who are you looking for?”

 

“A mech named Drift. Carries a greatsword and probably won’t shut up about auras.”

 

“Vivid picture you paint there, Ratchet.” Arcee was quiet for a moment. “I can find old records for him in Rodion, but nothing new. _Frag_ , Ratchet. Drugs, murder… _listed as a Decepticon_! Why the frag are you looking for this mech?”

 

“I have my reasons.”

 

“Be careful, Ratchet.”

 

“I’ll be fine. In any case, he wasn’t a Decepticon for the whole war. He joined us.”

 

“What?”

 

Ratchet sighed over the comm. “You weren’t at the same battles. Or even if you were, he was a ghost. In. Out. Deadly for whoever he was fighting.” Ratchet paused. “And one of the most selfless mechs I’ve ever known, barring Optimus. Thank you, Arcee.” He hung up, cutting off Arcee’s disbelieving response. He made his way back to the space bridge coordinates, calling the bridge remotely and stepping through.

 

The little blinking light was still going. A quick scan of the program history showed no change. Ratchet sighed once more and turned away. There were plenty of things that needed fixing. Like the space bridge.

 

xXxXxXx

 

Jack’s oldest child was entering the human’s higher education system. Miko had adopted twins. Rafael had gotten married at some point (honestly, Ratchet was beginning to lose track of their lives. Humans lived so quickly. He and Drift has danced around each other for several thousand years before recognizing their feelings for what they were. Well, Ratchet had. Drift had known since that day in the clinic, or so he said).

 

But he still tried to stay in touch, regardless. He turned away from the blinking light and static line, almost considering closing it. It had been nearly thirty Earth years by this point. Perhaps he should return to Cybertron. Give up. Help with the new sparks coming from the Well.

 

_Beep beep bep boop._

 

Ratchet’s head snapped around, his body following a little slower. The light had stopped blinking. The line jumped once.

 

Twice.

 

Three times.

 

“This is Autobot Drift. I’ve received your signal. State your identification.”

 

Hands shaking, Ratchet pushed the radio button. “Do I really need to do that, Drift?”

 

Silence.

 

“Primus below. Ratchet.”

 

“Drift.”

 

“You’re alive.”

 

“So are you.”

 

More silence.

 

Then the dam broke.

 

“Ratchet, tell me where the frag you are so that I can come get you. Primus, I haven’t seen you in—“

 

“Three thousand, two hundred and eleven Earth years. I’ll send you the coordinates. Get here yesterday, Drift.”

 

“I’ll do my fragging best.” The line went silent then, but the light didn’t start blinking again, and the line kept doing those little jumps every now and then, like Ratchet’s spark. Even if Drift never spoke again until he appeared in front of Ratchet, Ratchet wouldn’t mind. So long as that light never started blinking again, he’d be content.

 

xXxXxXx

 

As it turned out, Drift was at the edge of the solar system, so it took a few days, even for his ship. Every night, though, Drift would update Ratchet as to where he was at. Ratchet always responded, even if it was a hum. Hearing Drift’s voice was enough for now.

 

xXxXxXx

“I’m entering the atmosphere.”

 

“Try not to hit any buildings on your way down. The humans don’t like it much.”

 

Drift chuckled. “Does anyone?”

 

“I don’t suppose so.” A few moments passed in silence. Then Ratchet could hear the engines of Drift’s ship, landing outside. He ran towards the door, only to have his way blocked by a body slamming into his and wrapping their arms around him. Ratchet didn’t need to look before he returned the hug, almost spinning the mech in his arms around.

 

“Drift.”

 

“Ratchet.”

 

Neither could remember later exactly how much time they spent there, just standing, hugging, clinging to each other, almost trying to become one mech by sheer willpower alone. Ratchet could only remember when Drift finally pulled away from him and he could get a good look at the mech’s new frame. He’d only been a little shorter than Ratchet back then, but now they were the same height. Ratchet stared at the red and white mech, memorizing the new frame.

 

“You changed.” Ratchet said.

 

“Yeah. There’s a pretty good body shop on Cybertron.”

 

“On… frag, Drift. When were you on Cybertron?”

 

Drift paused, calculating. “About two Earth years ago, if the readings I got are right.”

 

Ratchet hissed. “They didn’t tell me you were there, they—“

 

Drift cut him off. “I went under a different name, Ratchet. I received the call to return, but I didn’t know how welcoming the new Cybertron would be to former Decepticons.”

 

“You switched sides.”

 

“And how many mechs knew that?”

 

Ratchet was silent. Drift nodded. “That’s what I thought. So I registered as Slider. Kept my head down. Got a new frame. After I left, I went looking for anyone else who might be hesitating on coming back.”

 

“Wait, don’t tell me you went to Knock Out’s.”

 

“Bright red mech, pretty slim, big blue assistant?”

 

“Indee… wait, assistant?”

 

“Yeah, what was his name...Breakdown, I think he said?”

 

Ratchet froze. Drift tapped his forehead. “Ratchet? You in there?”

 

“Drift, is the Well returning old sparks?” If Breakdown came back… then could Optimus? Had he?

 

“Sounds like it’s more that occasionally a strong-willed one forces its way into a new frame, but I suppose so?”

 

Ratchet laughed then, burying his face into Drift’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I’m happy for that slagger.” What he didn’t say was that Optimus might be coming back. And if that was the case… maybe he’d get both his old friend and his love back in his lifetime. It was almost too good to be true.

 

“Care to explain?” Drift’s voice held amusement.

 

“Maybe later.” Ratchet pulled back. “I have something to ask you.”

 

A faint smile made its way onto Drift’s face. “Ratchet?”

 

He’d waited too long to see that smile again. But now the war was over.

 

“Bond with me.”

 

“Thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
